Prompts from Previews
by KrasnyCassandra
Summary: One shots based on previews prior-to and during the airing of Season 2. Oliver, Felicity and Diggle focused with a definite Olicity vibe.
1. Lian Yu

**This will be a series of loosely connected stories based on previews of Arrow Season 2. I may not (probably will not) update for every single preview; updates will depend on my hectic schedule and the nature of the preview. These stories will NOT reflect what will happen in the show and should be taken as flights of creative fancy. They will all be Felicity, Oliver, and Diggle focused with a definite Olicity vibe.**

**I do not own the characters, images, or storylines of "Arrow".**

**This chapter is based on the teaser scene of Felicity and Diggle parachuting onto Lian Yu.**

* * *

"You're very sweaty."

"You shouldn't have come here."

Felicity grunted. "Sweaty and _heavy_. Off, Oliver." She shoved at his shoulders.

Oliver Queen smirked at the blonde woman sprawled beneath him. "Nice to see you too, Felicity." He pushed himself to his feet before holding out a hand to help her up.

Felicity jumped up, brushing pine needles and dirt from her hair and clothing as she moved, and ran to Diggle. "Are you ok? That was insane! I'm so sorry. I really did stay right behind you, I promise. You never said anything about landmines and how did you not step on it because you're feet are way bigger than mine?"

"I'm fine Felicity. Breathe." John Diggle allowed the woman to check him for cuts and scrapes. He looked over her head to see Oliver staring at them, confused. Diggle put his hands on Felicity's shoulders. He turned her toward Oliver. "Well, you found him. Time for the next part of your master plan."

The threesome stood in the clearing as detritus from the recent landmine explosion filtered down from above. They'd been through hell together before Oliver had disappeared from Starling City. The changes the island had wrought on Oliver had changed all of their lives. Coming here—coming _back _ here in Oliver's case—had been a gamble.

Oliver glanced at the sun. "We should get to shelter before dark. Follow me." He turned and loped off into the forest.

When they reached the cave Oliver had been calling home, Felicity collapsed onto a fallen tree. She groaned. "Remind me to spend more time at the gym."

"You did a good job keeping up," Diggle said. He squinted at Oliver, willing him to offer his own encouragement.

Oliver looked at her and back at Diggle. "How did you get here?"

"Jumped"

Blue eyes widened in surprise, Oliver blurted, "But Felicity was afraid of heights."

"Still am," she mumbled from the log.

"Trust me, she really is. She hacked all over the beach."

"Over-sharing, Digg," groused the woman even as both men laughed.

Oliver checked the outside of his cave, making sure none of the little traps and tricks had been disturbed in his absence. He felt Diggle watching him, questions in his serious gaze. Oliver deferred answering. "How did you find me, anyway?"

"Turns out that a defense satellite makes a pass with this island just barely in its visual range. We watched the images for signs of habitation. We didn't find any, but she was convinced you were here."

Felicity rolled her eyes at Diggle. "I was right, wasn't I?"

"Wait, how did you access a DoD satellite image-feed?"

"Man you really have no idea how smart she is, do you?"

"Ha!" Her fist pumped in the air in her signature move. She abruptly looked crestfallen. "I hope you're right about them not sending blondes to Gitmo. Otherwise I might have to take up permanent residence here."

"You're a very bad girl." Oliver tried to look and sound stern, but he couldn't help a bit of pride leaking through. He pulled a shirt over his head. "I have enough food and water here for tonight, so you—oof!" His breath rushed out as one hundred twenty-four pounds of genius collided with his chest. "Uh, hi? Again?"

"You're not sweaty anymore. I missed you." Felicity hugged him tightly and beamed up at him. Her bright smile caused his breath to catch. Then she stepped back and punched him, hard, in the stomach. "_That_ is for scaring the crap out of me, and Digg but he won't admit it because he's sphinx-like, and for leaving your sister to worry herself to death."

"Ow." He ruefully rubbed his midsection. "Who taught you how to punch?"

"Digg. Don't be such a baby, you hurt my hand more than I hurt you and you know it. Digg's taught me lots of things while you've been gone. We've done a lot. But—" she stabbed a finger at his nose, causing him to flinch backward. "Your sabbatical is over, Mr. Queen. Time to come home."

In a stern voice, Oliver replied, "You don't know what you're asking. I appreciate all you've done, but—"

"Good. You can show your appreciation by coming home."

"It's not that simple, Felicity!" Oliver roared.

"Then explain it to me!" She yelled right back. "I think I've earned the right to an explanation."

He wanted to rage at her, but couldn't. She stood there, the setting sun glinting off her hair and anger making her brow furrow. Diggle stood in the corner, ostensibly unloading his backpack, while glancing at them with worried frowns. These were his friends. The two of them knew more about him than anyone on Earth.

"Rights are not earned. Man earns knowledge and through it realizes his rights."

The both stared at him, dumbstruck. He shrugged. "Something Yao Fei told me, once."

Felicity smirked. "Oliver Queen, ladies and gentlemen. He hasn't read Shakespeare, but he can debate the innate nature of human rights."

"Uh…"

"You haven't read Shakespeare?" Diggle sounded offended.

"Uh…" Oliver stuttered again.

"He seems to have used up his store of philosophical insights for the evening, Felicity."

She snorted. Arms folded over her chest, she peered around. "You mentioned food? I'm starving."

~#~#~#

Hours later, Oliver returned from scouting the perimeter. Shadows cast by the small campfire danced across the cave walls. He un-slung his bow and quiver from his back. The sight on the far side of the fire made him frown. Felicity lay curled up against Diggle, sleeping peacefully. She looked comfortable, even natural, with her head lying on Digg's shoulder. The scene made Oliver feel vaguely unsettled, as if he'd been cheated.

Diggle eased away from the sleeping woman. He stretched as he crossed to where Oliver stood. "Stop thinking whatever it is you're thinking, Oliver."

The younger man's eyebrow quirked.

"Nothing's changed. I love Carly."

"I didn't say anything."

"Not with words. Look, we've had to lean on each other a lot these last few months. I care about her," Digg jerked his chin toward Felicity. "But just as close friend."

"If you care about her so much why'd you bring her here?"

"Screw you Oliver. I didn't bring her here. I insisted upon coming _with_ her. Trust me, she was coming with or without me. There's not a cage in the world strong enough to hold her once she sets her mind to something. You know that. She was convinced you were here. She plotted the island location. She arranged for the over-flight. She's a fighter, Oliver. Hell, man, if you want to stay here, just teach her how to shoot a bow. She can be the new hero of Starling City."

"I don't doubt it." He sighed. "I have to go back, don't I?"

"I don't think she'll leave you here. So, yeah, you're going back with us." Diggle slapped his friend on the back. "Grab some sleep. I'll take this watch."

"Thanks."

"Hey, Oliver," said Diggle. "When we get home, you're going to tell me a _lot_ more about this island."

"Sure thing," Oliver replied in a tone that indicated he'd do no such thing. He settled down in Diggle's recently vacated spot. Lifting the corner of the blanket, he slid underneath and pulled Felicity's lithe frame against his side. She stiffened. "Shh," he murmured. "Just me."

"Oliver?"

"Mmm?"

"Missed you."

He dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. "Missed you too, Felicity. Thanks for rescuing me."

"Damn straight," she murmured before falling back asleep.

For the first time in months, Oliver slept through the night untroubled by nightmares.


	2. Secret Identities

A/N: Just a drabble after seeing the 2x02 preview. Quotes from the preview are bolded. As always, I do not own the characters, dialogue, or storylines of Arrow.

* * *

**"We all need secret identities," Oliver Queen announced from behind his desk at Queen Consolidated headquarters.**

**John Diggle, standing in the corner, quipped "My secret identity is the black driver."**

Oliver raised a hand, irritated, but Felicity interrupted whatever he'd been about to say.

"I can do on-line personas well enough, I mean that's basic hacker stuff. Sock puppets are de rigueur, though not the real sock pockets, those wig me out.

Oliver's eyes cut sideways to skewer her. "Too much like kangaroos?"

"Exactly! Anyway, secret identity is supposed to be the opposite of your true persona, right? To throw everyone off? But the opposite of boring IT geek probably involves nine inch heels and skin tight leather."

"And heights," Diggle volunteered. He didn't like the calculating look in Oliver's eye. The younger man was clearly contemplating the idea of Felicity in a cat-suit.

"Yeah, so sexy superhero cliff diver chick not really a good idea for height, and landmine, adverse me. I can be the clumsy sidekick. I'm good at that."

Oliver gripped his forehead in his hands while leaning forward. "Forget I mentioned it, please."

"Hey Sexy Cliff Diver, Black Driver is going out for burgers. Want to join him?"

"Sure thing. Back in a few, boss!"

The pair of them walked out of the office chattering about aliases. Oliver leaned back in his chair and tried to remember when it was, precisely, that he'd lost control of the conversation.


	3. Russia

**This is based on the plot synopsis for episode 2x06 as seen on-line. I do not own anything associated with Arrow. I do not make money off fan-fiction.  
SPOILERS AHEAD. You've been warned.**

* * *

Felicity hated riding in airplanes. She'd done it to reach Lian Yu because they _needed_ to bring Oliver home. She'd done it again, of course, to return to Starling City. Now she was once again fighting her fears because Oliver had asked.

Oh, he hadn't asked her in a way which acknowledged how difficult it was for her to step foot into another aluminum skinned flying coffin. No, he'd said those simple words that made her common sense, expensive education, and genius intellect fly right out the window.

"Felicity, I need you."

_I hope they put that on my tombstone. "She died being needed by Oliver Queen."_

She knew for a fact that there was alcohol on this infernal conveyance, but she didn't dare touch it. The reason she couldn't get sloshed, or express her foul mood to Oliver, was sitting in the next row of seats. Isabel Rochev was not the kind of woman you got drunk around-particularly if _you_ were the type of woman who said completely embarrassing things even without imbibing. The perpetually angry Ms. Rochev had insisted upon accompanying Oliver on his "business trip" to Russia. In previous situations when Oliver's "partner" had intruded into their lives, Oliver, Felicity, and Diggle had traded barbed comments and speaking glances to soldier through until they could ditch her.

The thought of Diggle had Felicity biting her lip so hard that it drew blood. It was the only way she could suppress her whimper. _We're coming Digg. You have to hold on._ Her fingers clenched the armrests so tightly that pain lanced from her bone-white knuckles to her shoulders.

The Queens' private jet had two forward facing seats in the front of the passenger cabin. Behind those to the left of the aircraft were four seats in facing pairs. A long bench seat or sleeping berth was in the rear right with two seats facing each other in the rear left. When Felicity boarded the aircraft, chattering on her phone with the office, checking itineraries on her tablet, and juggling files, Oliver and Isabel were already ensconced in the middle set of seats. They faced each other. Oliver had his suit jacket flung over the seat beside him and his tie loosened. He was listening intently to something Isabel was saying. The striking brunette looked icily comfortable—only she could make that possible—with her legs bent sideways and crossed at the ankles. Felicity had taken one look at the two of them and decided she could spend the first part of the flight in one of the first row seats.

Granted, she could have looked over her shoulder to see Oliver, but the increasingly cordial conversation behind her did not invite interruption. So Felicity sat, miserable and terrified, with nothing to occupy her busy mind.

_You don't seem to need me all that much, Oliver. If we die on this plane I'll be listed in the "also killed" category. A sad little footnote to your life—as usual._

She gulped a few deep breaths and tried to think happy thoughts.

_Right. Happy thoughts. Like Isabel being mauled by a pack of feral dogs. Did they have those in Russia? Could we make a stop in Africa?_

They hit turbulence somewhere over Poland. Felicity tried sleeping, but every jolt and accompanying creak made her jerk with fear. Her hands were clenched in her lap. She tried really hard not to hyperventilate. She thought she heard Oliver moving around behind her. But, when she turned to look, he was covering a sleeping Isabel with a blanket. He returned to his seat. Felicity jerked her head back to forward facing before he could see her expression.

Emotionally and physically exhausted by the time they reached Moscow, Felicity was the last one to stand. She was still struggling to gather her possessions when Isabel and Oliver walked down the exit stairs. A minute later Oliver's voice floated back to her.

"Come on Felicity, the car's waiting."

She marched down the stairs, an extensive list of profanity rolling through her head. Knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to control her tongue or her temper, she slid into the front seat and slammed the door. Oliver and Isabel could enjoy the privacy of the backseat without her. Her role as the CEO's assistant meant she was at the desk verifying their reservations and coordinating delivery of their luggage while Oliver and Isabel went straight to the elevators.

Finally in her room, Felicity kicked her wedge heels off her feet and collapsed onto the bed. She was on solid ground. She was alone. The only thing needing her attention for the next seven hours was a pillow. Her fingers were already working on the buttons of her canary yellow blouse when he knocked at her door.

She'd know that knock anywhere. Oliver could make a _knock_ sound privileged and dangerous concurrently.

"Go away."

"Felicity." He growled, making it quite clear he was ready to break down the door if she failed to open it post-haste. When she did yank it open, he didn't give her a chance to get a word out. His broad shoulders leading the way, he brushed past her. He set a small attaché case on the desk before turning. She'd let the door close (loudly) but remained standing, glaring at him with her arms crossed.

"Let me see them."

"Huh? Oliver it's late, or early, or, you know, I don't even care. I haven't slept. What can you _possibly_ need to see at this hour? Go sleep, or do pushups, or whatever it is you do when mere mortals are sleeping."

"I'm usually arguing with you." He stepped closer and extended a hand. "Let me see your hands, Felicity."

_Oh_. He'd done it again. With a simple observation he diffused her anger and made her feel silly for ever doubting him. He might have, for Isabel's sake, acted oblivious to her turmoil, but he'd seen. She crossed the room before presenting her palms to him. Into each was cut four crescents. Some of them had bled.

His head was bent, so she could not see his expression. She could, though, see his shoulders rise and fall with a deep sigh. He cupped one hand around her elbow as he led her to desk chair. His larger hands engulfed hers. The disinfectant wipe stung as it brushed over the nail marks. A small tin held a green salve that smelt faintly of juniper. Felicity shuddered when Oliver applied the green goop on her palms. He still didn't look at her face, not until he finished wrapping two layers of gauze around each hand.

"Leave those on until tomorrow."

"Thanks. And…I'm sorry."

Head to one side, he cocked a brow at her. "Sorry for what?"

"Um, being rude, using my loud voice, slamming doors…" She shrugged, indicating he could include anything he chose.

Her movement caused her blouse, unbuttoned to mid-chest, to slide and expose the pale flesh beneath. Oliver's expression somewhere between awe and devotion, he reached out to stroke the pad of his thumb over her collar bone. Felicity sucked in her breath. He jerked back his hand like he'd been burned.

"I should go."

She nodded and swallowed. "You should go to bed." Her face flamed. "In your bed! Not here!"

Laughter teasing at the edges of his eyes and mouth, Oliver picked up her hand. He gently squeezed her fingertips. "Next time we're picking out codenames, yours is "Valkyrie". His smile made her tired body want to dance. "Brave, loyal, fierce, fighter." Eyes locked on hers he pulled her hand to his mouth. Lips brushed over her fingers before she could blink.

"Sleep well, Valkyrie."


End file.
